


Runner of first base, no outs

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Baseball, M/M, based off of a prompt, mostly a long dave rant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Dave are at a baseball game and the media exploits their romantically tense relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runner of first base, no outs

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off of some headcanon that I don't even remember before but I did read this aloud once and realized how much of a hopeless romantic (apply that to dirk and jake) I am. I made this mostly to work on my ranting skills.

The crowd rose with a wave, the cheer turning into a staticy nuisance which Dave tried to ignore as he followed the lead of the crowd, stretching his legs to the sound of a home run. Fans flailed pep rags, noodles which shone brightly with the blue and white ensign of the Texas Rangers (the brightness akin to the light of the sun). Dave plugged his ears with his fingers, squinting against the still too loud sound. Beside him, his best friend, John Egbert, clapped in the most adorable way, too self-conscious to be whooping and waving his shirt around like the hooligans in the nearby stands, by attaching his wrists by the heel of his hand and tapping his fingertips together held up to his chin and goofy grin. _I want to kiss that grin_ , Dave thought, surely blushing at these risque cognitions. He directed his attention towards the most confusing sport known to man: Baseball.

What kind of sport is named after a ball, but the ball is one of the least relevant variables of the game? Dave let out a puff of air in frustration and sat down. The stadium boomed with and echoed voice, announcing the sponsors with a commercial, then a ‘super exciting and interactive event’ in which somebody who was probably contacted before the game wins a ‘completely random’ competition and the manipulated crowds cheers not for the winner of the event, but the sponsor of the game. And we all give our applause to Promaster watches, and the crowd cheers along to the beat of the media’s impact on society!

Over the years, Dave had grown less and less patient with the way business marketers forced themselves upon their consumers. Events like these–ones where it was blatant advertising no matter how many pieces of cork were covered in leather, mass produced for the sole purpose of being chucked at a slab of wood. Wood, which goes through a tedious process of shaping, polishing, glazing, perfecting, signing, only to be broken by the baseball. Players who stumbled across the field in an effort not to be booed, players who pushed themselves to their limits so that a population can be entertained. It made no sense that, with all this hard work put into such an ‘important event’, the media had managed to worm it’s way into sports as if the producers of the sport events had no spine and were willing to just accept that advertising is our world now.

Bottom line, Dave found it hard to enjoy the event considering he could barely keep himself from vocalizing his internal monologue and now he had to act like he appreciated this bullshit. The only good thing about this is that the Rangers were playing in Washington, which meant Dave got to see John. The voice echoed chipper through the stadium and the crowd laughed. It looked like they were doing the crowd favorite–-kiss cam. Dave groaned.

“Oh, lighten up Dave! They’re funny to watch at least, even if there’s a huge best buy pinned to the screen.” John chirped. Dave found it hard not to smile at the tone of voice, so he let it go, chuckling.

The kiss cam switched to a young couple and they beamed, the guy hitting the girl to get her attention so they could lean in to kiss each other. Dave wished he could be in that place one day, but alas he desired no attention from the kiss cam or girls. No he was too infatuated by his best friend.

The clip changed again to show two guys (Dave had yet to realize that Washington was much more progressive than his hometown in Texas). The guys just stared into space and one of them hit the other guy. Dave felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Oh my god Dave we’re on the k-kiss cam,” John stuttered, blushing.

“Haha, very funny,”

The crowd chanted for the two men on the screen to kiss, mostly because their entertainment had been interrupted by the hold up.

“I’m not kidding, we have to kiss. The fate of the game depends on it Dave,” John giggled nervously.

The guy next to Dave leaned in to speak,

“Just kiss him and get it over with,” he complained

“Oh, uhmmfmf,” Dave replied.

Dave was pulled into a light kiss. It wasn’t huge, it did nothing to test the boundaries in their relationship. Dave hated the kiss.

When John pulled back, he found himself unable to move, his heart beating too fast, his face heating up, his lips prickled with the memory of John’s lips upon his. The space between them was minimal and sweaty in the summer heat, though the heat was nothing compared to Texas in the summer. John’s eyes shone a sky blue from under his glasses, focused on anything but Dave’s eyes (which wasn’t surprising considering Dave always wore sunglasses). Eventually his eyes stopped right below Dave’s nose and he leaned forward, closing the inch separating their chapped lips.

This kiss meant something. This kiss was electric, and the spark ignited a fire of held back passion in Dave (and apparently in John, too). This kiss was burning with an ardor, while more reserved because of the public setting, that invited more and more. This kiss tested the boundaries of their relationship to the point where they were no longer platonic-with-an-ounce-of-romantic-tension but they were now painfully-romantic-in-a-ballpark-setting.

They pulled apart, staring, to the best of their abilities, into the eyes of their best friends.

“Do you wanna go to your place?” Dave hesitated,

John stood up dazed, gathering his stuff and slipping his hat on. He smiled a toothy grin, “Let’s go,”

 

 


End file.
